Lullaby
by Anna10
Summary: Stand alone, a different sort. "She squeezed her eyes shut, and warm salty liquid trickled down the contours of her cheek, hitting her pillow with a new force. She wiped them away quickly. Adults didn’t cry."


Author's note: Short character piece, set in the past. Song used is Natalie Imbruglia – "Smoke". Constructive reviews very welcome!

My Lullaby,

Hung out to dry,

What's up with that?

It's over.

--------------------------------  
The noise startled her, and she jumped up in her bed; glancing furtively around her. Nothing. Nothing but the quiet, and the thick beam of light spreading from the gap between the door and the doorjamb. Go back to sleep. Settling back down and huddling resignedly into her little ball, the only position she seemed to be able to rest in, she sighed quietly.

"Hey!" a small voice whispered from across the room. She took in the figure, his body rising softly with each breath. She couldn't see his face properly in the shadows, but she thought for a second that he smiled.

"What?" she whispered back, annoyed. "I'm trying to sleep."

"You're doing a good job!" he mocked her.

"Shut up!" she called back indignantly, and then froze as she heard stirring in the next room.

Apparently he heard it too. "You're too loud!" he hissed. "You'll wake her up."

Abby glared at him from her bed, but her scowl was barely visible in the dark, and he ignored it. "A-b-b-y…" As she turned to face him again, he jumped up, sheet over his head, with a triumphant "BOO!"

"Shit! ERIC!" she yelled, glancing quickly across to the door, heart pounding a little faster than before.

"You swore!" he breathed accusingly.

Her face glowed red, even in the blackness, and she calmed her breathing admirably. "Didn't."

"You said a bad word! Because you were frightened!"

"Wasn't."

"Were so!" he shouted more loudly, laughing at her.

"Ssh!" she motioned with her finger. "Don't wake her!"

"ABBY! ERIC?" 

Too late. 

Eric looked scared, and Abby took pity on him. "Pretend you're asleep!" she whispered, burying deeper underneath the sheet, into the safety of her bed.

"Ok," he answered.

The door flew open like it so often would, and Maggie stood there, surveying the scene. "Hey! Don't ignore me!" she shook one after the other, and Eric awoke, but Abby clung tightly to the sheet until her nails began to snap, and whispered a silent prayer to nobody.

Dear God. Please help Maggie. She doesn't mean it, she loves us, but sometimes we're just too loud.

"Abigail! I know you were shouting! What did I say about needing my rest? Abigail!" She shook more powerfully this time, and Abby's legs curled up to her chest, like a frightened hedgehog.

_Help her. Make her better. Since Daddy left it's been worse._

"I'm sorry Maggie. I didn't mean to be loud," she finally said, and the shaking stopped. Maggie sat by the bed, deflated, and sat her daughter up.

"It's Mom, Abby. Not Maggie," she scolded with an attempted smile.

---------------------------

  
Where are you Dad?

Mom's looking sad

What's up with that?

It's dark in here.

Why, bleeding is breathing

You're hiding underneath the smoke in the room

Try, bleeding is believing

I used to…

-----------------------------

"You're a beautiful little girl you know," she started excitedly, loosely twirling Abby's hair into a small plait. "When you start wearing makeup…" she trailed off. "How old are you now? Seven? Eight?"

"I'm ten, Mom," Abby replied, annoyed, and hurt that her mother couldn't remember how old she was.

"Of course you are," she answered after a moment. "I'm getting you mixed up with Eric."

"Eric's six," she stated huffily. "He's **six**." 

"Six, seven, what does it matter?" Maggie asked, rising to the bait. "I'm a crappy mother, sue me Abby! I'm trying my best here!" she shouted.

"I know Mom," she retorted boredly, with a tone of voice more suited to a world-weary woman than a ten year old.

"Don't give me that Abby! Don't talk to me that way, you hear me?" She watched Abby's retreating form under the bed clothes, and stood up sadly. "No wonder your Dad left you," she added. Abby waited quietly until she heard the door shut again, and the faint sounds of Maggie sobbing across the hallway.

Sorry Mom. 

She felt her eyes swelling, puffing outwards, and the tears were forming, though she didn't want to release them. Slowly she relented, and they leaked out in silent sobs onto her pillow. Maybe everything was her fault. Her broken family, her mom getting worse. She was mean to her Mom, mean to Eric. To the kids at school she was known as 'the one with the crazy Mom', after Maggie had come to a parents' meeting and got a little excited.

The depression was bad, but the mania was worse. It started off as fun; trips out, no rules, a new adventure every day. But there had to be an adult. And the task had recently fallen to Abby. Mania isn't fun when you're the one clearing up after it. 

Dear God. Send me an angel.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and warm salty liquid trickled down the contours of her cheek, hitting her pillow with a new force. She wiped them away quickly. Adults didn't cry.

 --------------------------

My mouth is dry

Forgot how to cry

What's up with that?

You're hurting me.

---------------------------

"Abby?" beside her Eric peeked out from under the quilt.

"Mmm?" she grunted, wiping her eyes again quickly under the cover of the sheets.

"Abby? You crying?" he asked.

"No!" she snorted.

"Your eyes are red," he pointed out, and her cheeks began to glow slightly. What sort of an example was she setting to her own brother? She was supposed to be the…grown up? She was just a child. But Eric was younger, and she was supposed to be looking after him. Something she had a lot of practice at.

He slid out of his bed and tentatively positioned himself at the end of hers. "Mommy doesn't mean it Abby," he explained, with a wisdom beyond his six years. He reached out a chubby hand to hold hers, and she took it. "She's just sick, s'all." She laughed in spite of herself. He looked hurt. "Was just saying…" he muttered, and crawled back towards his own bed.

"I know Eric," she whispered back. "You're right. Thank you."

This seemed to pacify him slightly, and he returned to her bed. Abby smiled at him. "Can't sleep," he said, slightly embarrassed.

"Want me to tell you a story?" she offered. He nodded, dark blond curls bouncing slightly on his head as he did so. "There once was a dragon, who lived in a big cave near the sea. And he had big green spots, and large sharp teeth, and his breath smelt of…"

"ABBY!" he hissed. "That's not a nice story!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Ok you big softie. Cinderella it is…"

He snuggled back down into his bed, pulling the sheets around him contentedly. She saw how happy he was, and pushed her sadness to the back of her mind, putting on a happy voice.

"Once upon a time…"

------------------------------

I'm running fast

Can't hide the past

What's up with that?

You're pushing me…

Why, bleeding is breathing

You're hiding underneath the smoke in the room

Try, bleeding is believing

I used to…

------------------------------  
The silence returned and the sobs from the master bedroom subsided, giving way to a loud humming. She winced. No sleep tonight, at least not for Abby. She took in Eric's form, the Cinderella book, pages adorned with colourful pictures of ideas that Abby could only imagine existed, lay between the bed and a soft little hand. She couldn't help but smile, and gently nudged the book from his grasp, taking in the picture whilst attempting to drown out the loudening tune her mother was still singing.

Instead of into her awaiting hand, it fell to the floor with a thud, and for a second she froze, but when she realised the world was oblivious to her clumsiness she paused to take in the picture that greeted her, one of Cinderella, crowned in white and laughing, a tall handsome prince by her side.

Dear God. Forget the angel. I want a Prince.

She giggled to herself. Silly Abby. There are no such things. But it would be nice. Nice to have somebody to love her.

"What you doing?" Eric yawned sleepily.

She shunted the book under the bed, embarrassed, and dove back under the covers. "Nothin'. Go to sleep Eric," she uttered with mild annoyance, turning her back so he couldn't see the dreamy look still etched on her face. He surveyed her back, and silently dipped under the bed, handing grasping round the book she'd hastily deserted, and he stole a glance at the page it was left on.

"Ab-by?"

"What?!"

"I'll be you' Prince," he whispered groggily.

She allowed herself a smile. Maybe somebody did love her after all.


End file.
